Veela Means More
by Lina Slate
Summary: 15-yr old Hermione learns she is a Veela and goes through some physical changes, but somehow thinks she won't be going through any more. Managing her life, dangers, emotions, and trying to figure out those around her, Hermione's actions ripple through her friends, the school, then the world. Love dodecahedron - HG/HP, HG/FD, LL/DM, GW/LL, HP/GW, plus more, getting worse!
1. Chapter 1

"I feel like I'm burning up!" Hermione cried out, from under the arm she'd slung around her eyes.

Her breathing was heavy, her fever and her pulse frighteningly high.

Mrs Granger pressed the glass of ice water she'd brought into her daughter's hands, hoping it might alleviate some of her discomfort while the doctor made his way over to their residence.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Her father said, fretting on the other side of the bed, "Go over it again, how are you feeling?"

"So hot it's like I might die," Hermione said, not knowing the stomach-dropping effect her choice of words had on her parents.

"It's like I'm in some kind of forest fire, only the fire is in me." She continued, "My head hurts so badly, it hurts to keep my eyes open. Please, tell me the doctor will be here soon."

"The doctor will be here soon," Emma Granger replied immediately, "And I mean that, honey, he's on his way right now, I just spoke to him on the phone, he was in the car already."

They all three heard a knocking at the door.

Dan Granger jumped up, "That must be him, I'll get it,"

He half-sprinted down the stairs, in a state of almost delirious worry for his daughter. They'd thought it just a fever at first. Have her rest a little, she'd be over it fast, but it just kept getting worse. And even worse than that, he had no real way of knowing if it wasn't magic in origin. She'd been going to that school for three years now, he was well aware of that side of the world and even more aware how little of it he was truly aware of. And Hermione, much more delirious than he was, couldn't help him.

He threw open the door, out of breath from his half-run. "She's -"

Dan was startled, the person at the door wasn't the doctor he knew so well from going to the man's practise all as Hermione grew up. This was a woman with long, silvery blond hair.

"Where?" She asked. From one word alone, he could detect some kind of accent. Her clothes... more modern than Hogwarts, but still had that wizard flair. He didn't really have time to think.

"You... magic?" He huffed out.

She nodded up and down rapidly, her face very determined.

"Upstairs," He said, pointing.

The woman pushed past him wordlessly and ran her own way up the stairs, heading into the first open door she saw in the upstairs hallway.

Emma didn't have a chance to react to the unexpected face before the woman pulled out a slender, pale wood wand and started casting, speaking words Emma didn't knew. Hermione calmed immediately, even pulled her arm away from her face and opened her eyes to look around.

"Thank god," She said.

Spying the woman, still holding her wand, she revised, "Thank you."

The woman seemed to let out a breath of her own. "Of course."

"Thank you, thank you so much for helping my daughter," Emma said, "But who are you?"

The woman shook her head, her striking hair swaying side to side gracefully as she did so, "You don't know me and, honestly, I don't know you either. My name is Lacy Dumont. From your home... I would guess you are muggles."

Emma and Hermione both noticed the accent, just as Dan had, and heard enough words to recognize it as French.

"Yes, I'm a muggleborn witch, Hermione Granger." Hermione said, "If you don't know us, how did you know..."

"I'm a Veela, Ms. Granger. Full-bloodied. We can sense these things."

"What things?" Hermione asked, seeing her father appearing at the door and observing his relieved expression at having made the right choice letting the strange woman into their home.

The woman, Ms. Dumont, let out a sigh, "I was worried you might not know. That happens far too often these days... I suppose it can't be helped. Let's all sit down somewhere proper, I'll explain everything."

After a quick-freshening up spell Hermione cast on herself and her clothes to cover up the sweat from her fever, they were all left sitting comfortably enough in the living room downstairs.

"Mrs. and Ms. Granger..." Ms. Dumont said, biting her lip slightly, "Perhaps it would be better if..."

She eyed Dan Granger, her eyes darting slightly.

Hermione got the message, though didn't understand why it was necessary for her father to leave the room.

"I'm sorry, Dad, could you step out for a minute? I think this might be a girl thing."

"Oh, um, right. Okay." Dan said, nodding and stepping out into the back garden. He still needed to catch his breath anyway.

"My apologies." Ms Dumont said, "This can be a rather sensitive topic for many people."

She cleared her throat. Hermione and Emma looked at each other, both wondering what it all was about.

"Ms. Granger... Hermione, may I call you?" Hermione nodded.

"Hermione, I am able to feel in my very veins that you are a Veela of at least half-blood."

"What?" Hermione asked, shocked. She knew a little about Veela... precious little.

"I am certain of it," Ms. Dumont went on, "It's sensitive because... Mrs. Granger." The Veela redirected her attention, "I am guessing you must know already. Such a strongly present trait can't be passed by a non-magical. You... Hermione's father, that is..."

Mrs. Granger had a very pale look. Her voice shook a little, but she didn't hesitate, "Yes, I believe I understand."

"Understand what?" Hermione asked, her face whipping back and forth from her mother to Ms. Dumont, "Please, explain."

Emma's voice was hoarse like she was the one sick, "An affair..."

"An affair?" Hermione asked, still not understanding.

Emma cleared her throat and seemed to get her strength back a little. "I... well, I had an affair, Hermione. Many years ago now. A foolish mistake. I never did tell your father, I've kept it to myself all these years. Mainly because... well, you look more like that mistake I made then you ever did your father. And with your father, well, more children never came."

It clicked in Hermione's head quickly and she nodded, blushing.

"I still love your father, darling – still love you -"

"I know," Hermione responded, "It's all right, Mum. So what this means is... a Veela is my father? That's why I'm part Veela? And that has something to do with you sensing me or sensing my sickness."

"Not exactly a Veela, but a man with full Veela blood, yes. Only females can be true Veela, but males can carry the bloodline."

Hermione nodded, taking it all in stride. There wasn't any need to rush anymore, she was feeling fine now after Ms. Dumont's spells, but the atmosphere was still very much a tense one. Ms. Dumont even looked more uncomfortable than Mrs. Granger did.

"What that means for you, Hermione," She went on, "Is that you have been blessed to become a full Veela yourself."

'Blessed', huh? So at least she knew this was a good thing, then.

"But you said earlier, I'm half Veela, right?"

"Half-blooded, yes. Full Veela."

"Full Veela..." Hermione knitted her eyebrows. She'd have to do more research on this, definitely. For now, though...

"So, the illness?" She asked.

"All young Veela go through it at about your age. It's only in the modern century we've made spells to lessen the pain. It's a distinctly unpleasant thing, yes, but only lasts a few days. The last of it being the worst of it, and from your state, I would guess you were very near the end already.

"It's somewhat of a transformation, to your core. We refer to it as your core being purified in fire. If I felt your forehead, you'd still be burning up – all I can do away with is the discomfort."

"Thank you, for that," Hermione said.

"Of course." Ms. Dumont said, as she had before, "Well, there are more things I need to make you aware of, Hermione."

"Please, go on, Ms. Dumont." Hermione said, nodding.

"Lacy," She said, nodding back, then continuing, "Whether full or part-blooded, if true Veela, you experience three such transformations. Rest assured, the other two you've yet to face are not so nightmarish. To your core, first of all, your magic. What you're going through right now. Then your looks – not a severe change, you won't be unrecognisable, but you will look noticeably different. There's no hiding it, really, once it's complete."

"The third?" Hermione asked, when Lacy paused.

"That will be your first transformation into your other form. Not painful, usually, but..."

"Forgive me," Hermione said, "I know next to nothing about this. I haven't researched Veela – they're not nearly so common in England as they are in France, so, it was never too necessary. Another form?"

"Don't worry about that," Lacy said, smiling, "I wouldn't expect you to know. Veela are shape-shifting beings – we have two forms. What you would call the normal one, the one you spend your days in, and the form you take in anger. Similar, I believe, to Harpies – no, sirens in muggle lore – not the same, of course, not nearly..."

"Could you show us?" Emma asked, just as curious as her daughter what was happening to Hermione.

"Yes, I'm experienced in it." Lacy said, "Though... the curtains."

"I'll get them," Emma said, standing to do so at once.

When their privacy was secured, Lacy stood and began to remove her clothes.

"So as not to tear them," She said automatically to the slightly bewildered faces of the two other women in the room.

Hermione knew she should be focusing on other things, but was a little mystified by the Veela woman's body. There was some sort of strange smoothness to her, more than just her skin, like that was her being. She was flawless, beyond that, Hermione noticed her face as well, blushing at her own audacious when their eyes met.

Lacy laughed at her, seeming utterly comfortable without her clothes, "You'll be just as beautiful soon, Hermione."

Hermione blushed an even deeper crimson.

Lacy clasped her hands in front of her, and stared downwardly, almost as if she was praying to some strange god, then suddenly, flicked her head upwards and quietly cried out.

Feathers sprouted along her arms, down the sides of her body, and partway down her thigh, an utterly strange look, the mixture of pale skin and feathers. What happened next made Hermione gasp a little despite herself.

Huge wings sprang from Lacy's back, spreading themselves widely across the room. They were thick, looked strong and tense with muscle, a little scaly, a little feathery. She would have been angelic in that moment, beautiful, but then Hermione's gaze swept to her face. A beak sprouted where her nose should be – nothing, in itself. Her eyes, her eyes were where the true horror lay, huge red pits that pulsed like fire. It was a fearsome, frightening gaze – then it withered, the wings sucked into her back like serpents, the feathers receding as it rewound.

"In that form, you can throw fireballs from your fingertips," Lacy said, laughing again, "But I would not want to ruin your carpet or set fire to the curtains."

Emma was certainly in awe and Hermione was very curious. "Can you fly?" She asked, a little mystified.

Lacy stopped dressing and tipped her head from side to side. Surely not a difficult question, but she considered it carefully not-the-less.

"Not... really," Became her eventual answer, "Glide a little, maybe. They're magic, the wings, so well-balance beyond what physics should allow. Strong, too. Still, flying properly isn't something easy. The older women in my family, the ones still studying the Veela ways, even they tend to have trouble with that. It's not the primary function of that form, in any case... your feathers are strong things, wicked strong, just like your hair. They protect you from magic and fire – with the wings, you can angle that protection rather well."

"It sounds incredible." Hermione said, awed.

Lacy had a smile of great joy, "It is, Hermione. There is no being under the sun I'd rather be. Our rich history, our rich culture – you can come to learn these things in time, be a part of them. You attend Hogwarts, correct? Only school in Britain, I believe, so you must. You should consider Beauxbatons in France, Hermione. These English wizards..."

Lacy, fully dressed again, plopped back onto the couch, "That, well, that would be the only bad part, I suppose, about being a Veela. Nothing about it itself – about people and the way they react to it. It's bad, here in England. A little bit bad everywhere, you can't help that, but in England? People are terrible, Hermione. Though, you being muggleborn, I suppose you must have experienced prejudice already."

Hermione nodded, suddenly solemn, "Yes, for myself, and for non-humans. There's a tribe of centaurs that live in the forest near my school. I know that they've been frustrated for years, trying to be taken as seriously as they deserve to be by the wizards. Half-breeds, that's what people call them. Will they... call me that, too?"

Lacy seemed like she didn't want to confirm that. She wanted Hermione to be proud to be a Veela and didn't want to associate her with negative things right off the bat. Still, she had no choice but to sheepishly nod.

Hermione, strangely, did not look distressed. "Well, I could care less, you know." She said, crossing her arms, "They've called me mud blood for years, now, haven't they? I'm the best in my year and they ridicule me anyway. When I was younger – only over two years, I suppose, but it feels much younger – that used to upset me more than it does now."

"You're a mature girl, Hermione." Lacy said, looking proud, despite how they'd only just met.

"Oh!" Lacy suddenly cried out, "I need to go now! Oh, yes, I'd lost track of time – couldn't just leave a fellow Veela suffering, when I felt your transformation nearby I had to... I'm here in England for a conference, a very important one. Oh, thank goodness, there's still time, but I need to leave now. Hermione, don't fear, I won't leave you in the dust, I promise. I'll come visit again, or have one of my friends visit, or send letters. I have to go now. Oh, give my regards to Mr. Granger, I'm so sorry!"

Lacy rushed out of the house like a bat out of hell. Hermione noticed immediately she'd left a feather behind on the floor. Did Veela moult? My, was there an awful lot to learn and she was still exhausted from that fever.

"Mum," Hermione started.

"Yes, dear, go ahead," Mrs. Granger said, "I... need to have a talk with your father."

"Right," Hermione said. That would be an awkward situation, maybe even painful. She hoped they wouldn't fight. Still, her parents loved each other greatly, she knew. Surely, they would work it out.

Both were startled by another knock at the door.

"Oh, dear!" Mrs. Granger said, "That must be the doctor. Oh, we can't have anyone think he came for nothing, they'll be suspicious surely. You still have a fever, don't you?"

Hermione nodded.

"Pretend to feel badly, dear – but not too badly, we want him to say 'you have a fever, take some rest and this medicine' and go away."

For the next twenty minutes, Hermione was poked and prodded.

The doctor, for his part, certainly was thorough and a respectable man that the three in the house felt a little bad about fooling.

He said mostly what Emma had assumed he would. Overreaction from the parents, just a fever, probably nothing, take this medicine, call me in the morning with an update.

He packed his things back away and left.

"Thank goodness," Hermione said, letting out a sigh. She didn't find herself to be a good actress, the high temperature must have been the only thing to convince him.

"Well, now that that's settled, you two can fill me in on what's going on." He said, looking back and forth between his daughter and his wife.

"Actually," Said Emma, "I think it would be better if I did that. Alone with you. Hermione, why don't you go rest? I'd say actually take that medicine too, it might do your fever well."

Hermione nodded and scampered, not wanted to be in the room.

In her bed upstairs, she listened for yelling, but heard none. Relieved, she was able to fall asleep.

The atmosphere in the house the next morning was more melancholic than tense. Dan seemed strangely sad and Emma remorseful. They were close as a couple, very close, so something like that news would have shaken them, Dan especially. Hermione gave them their space and took her breakfast to her room, where it sat untouched until she had finished writing her letter to Harry. She'd wanted to write one to Ron, too... but something strange stopped her. More towards the end of last year, her feelings about him had gotten awkward. Ron was, after all, an attractive boy. The way he got on her nerves, but stayed her friend all the same. She couldn't imagine a future with him, really, or any other boy... but he certainly was pretty, wasn't he?

Handsome, handsome, she shook her head. You don't call boys pretty, boys like Ron anyway. Handsome, even? Rugged, she supposed. Sort of... she couldn't put it into words in her mind and was only making herself blush.

She forced herself to stop thinking about that and reviewed her letter to Harry.

Quick pleasantries, 'how's the start of your summer been'. She slipped into the news pretty quickly, explaining thoroughly what she knew and asking for advice. She also asked him, in very clear words, not to tell anyone else about it, if he would, please. She signed it 'love Hermione' – oops. Well, whatever, she didn't feel like re-writing it and Harry wouldn't care about that. She knew he couldn't feel that way about her or think she did about him. She sealed it and sent it off by owl for hire, not trusting the Dursleys to not screen his muggle mail.

Once she was done, a sense of calm washed over her. Why was she ever feeling so frantic? If Lacy was to be believed, this was very good news.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry tried to think about the main content of the letter. He really, truly tried, but he still couldn't help laying awake that night thinking about her signature. 'Love Hermione'.

It didn't mean anything. He knew that, both in his head and everywhere else. Hermione wasn't like other girls, she'd wouldn't be coy about that kind of thing, it meant she loved him, as a friend.

But in all her other letters, the ones he kept with Ron's, she just signed 'Hermione'.

Would she... maybe be testing the waters?

No! He rolled over, hating himself. Little kids accidentally told their school teachers 'I love you,'. It was probably a simple mistake, or just nothing, not even that, she didn't like him that way. She probably liked Ron, anyway...

And Harry didn't like her that way. Right?

The letter. The content of the letter, the main part. Veela, huh? He'd never heard of that before. Hermione said she'd do more research and tell him about it. It sounded really cool, anyway, though he was still impressed with the idea of magic in general. Useful, too. The part about being beautiful and attracting men magically, he hoped that wouldn't make things awkward between them or anything.

Especially now that he was having these thoughts...

No!

He couldn't keep waiting. Hedwig was dying to get outside, if nothing else. He penned a letter back quickly enough.

Thanks for telling me this, you should definitely do more research, I'd love to hear more about this, hope your summer is going good too. Mindless chatter about Ron's obsession with the Quidditch World Cup and how the Dursleys were still, consistently, awful. He tended to just patter away in these letters to Hermione during the summer, but she did the same, so he figured it was fine. He was incredibly thankful, really. Ron was a great friend in person, but wasn't really able to get feeling into letters. It was Hermione who kept him from dying of loneliness.

A thought like that would never make him blush before. Ugh, stupid signature, stupid thoughts.

How should he sign?

Why was he even thinking about this.

'Love Harry'. Would that be okay? Well, she did it. God, why did he want to do it anyway, this was stupid, beyond stupid.

Hedwig hooted at him sharply, impatient. She was unhappy enough to have a rent-a-owl deliver his letters to him.

In his hurry, he wrote it. 'Love Harry'. Well, it was too late now, he wasn't going to rewrite the whole thing. He tied it to Hedwig's foot and sent her off. At least she was happy now. Though, thinking about it, Harry was suddenly happy too.

He shouldn't be, really. He had feelings to start examining.

Over the next few days, they exchanged a few more letters. Hermione had learned a little more about being a Veela. Not a lot. Lacy was clear and open, but not as knowledgeable as Hermione hoped. She said she'd tried practising her allure, but it wasn't working yet. The fever was gone completely, but the transformation of her core wasn't over yet.

Harry told her he hoped she wouldn't change too much, he liked her as she was now. She thanked him for that.

On the sly, he slipped in a question: Did she like Ron, that way? She denied it, but that confirmed nothing.

And all the time, both of them signed 'love'. It was just a friendship thing, Harry decided, or rather, forced himself to think. Friendship love. Love in a friendship way. He didn't like her that way anyway, definitely.

He was curious what she looked like now. She described the physical changes she was seeing too. Apparently, her hair had died down, which Hermione found strangely depressing, and her skin seemed to fit better now. Harry didn't know what that meant. Her teeth, too, shrank from their charming size into a more normal depiction of beauty. Her eyelashes were longer, her skin paler. She was worried her hair might change colour, Lacy told her that happened sometimes.

Harry decided that whatever she looked like, he'd feel the same things for her. Which were no things, zero things. Just... friendship things.

They were going to meet again for the Quidditch World Cup. The Weasleys had won tickets. Hermione told him she was nervous. She still hadn't gotten around to tell Ron yet, but had decided to address it sort of off-handedly in the next letter she wrote him.

Harry wondered idly if she wrote as many letters to Ron as she did to him. Wondered if she liked Ron, that way. Probably did. Probably didn't write so many letters though, Ron sucked at that.

"Wow," Harry said. He hadn't even seen her face yet.

She turned around, hair swishing through the day summer air, and his jaw must have hit the ground. She looked down nervously, blushing, and Harry shut his mouth quickly.

"Sorry," He said, pushing whatever that was aside instantly, "I just... you _have_ changed. You're still beautiful, of course – or more beautiful, I mean. Oh whatever, give me a hug already, stop being weird!"

Hermione laughed, but still half-tackeled him into one of her rib-crushing hugs.

"You're the weird one!" She cried out, pressing her somewhat new nose into his chest.

"You're the Veela!" He cried back, hugging her tightly and still blushing.

She laughed at him again. God, even her voice was different, more song-like. It was downright strange.

She pulled away and stepped back a bit, staring at him curiously. "Do you... feel anything, then?" She asked.

Harry bit his lip, "I'm not sure," He said, honestly, "You are definitely really pretty, though, beautiful. You always have been, but more classically now, I think. More... beautiful too."

He didn't want to insult her or be dishonest. He knew what beauty looked like. Besides, she'd get more beautiful as she got older, people did, so this was basically the same thing, right?

"I want to try something, Harry." She said stepping back, "Before I have to go let Ron have his opinion on it. I think I've got the hang of the allure now. It's always on, I think, but I can... sort of poke at it, manipulate it and make it stronger. Could I try that on you? I – well, I haven't had anyone to test it on. It doesn't work on my dad, thank god."

"Sure," Harry said, one hand on the back of his head.

Hermione clasped her hands in front of herself and closed her eyes. She poked one open, looking out. "Feel anything?"

"Um, no, actually." Harry said, a little embarrassed. Seemed like she hadn't gotten the hang of it after all.

"Oh." Hermione said, seeming a bit put out. She'd probably been hoping for a different reaction. The allure could be really useful, she'd explained, off the battlefield and on it. A great new tool that didn't even really drain on her magic energy.

She shook her head, throwing the expression off of it, "Guess I still have to practice, then?"

Harry smiled, "We going to go meet the Weasleys, or what?"

She giggled again. Harry was really happy nothing seemed to have changed between them. She was still the same Hermione, too, inquisitive, fun to be around. He just had to get used to a new face and a new voice with it.

"Whoa!" They heard Ron call out when he spotted them coming up the road to the Burrow.

"Whoa," Fred and George said in unison, also staring out the window.

"Hey, everyone!" Hermione called out, acting perfectly casual. Harry knew she couldn't have missed their expressions, but let them all pass, so no one would have to feel awkward. She didn't always see other people feelings so well, but she did truly care about them.

"Hermione!" Ron called out, "You look gorgeous!"

"Looks like my hair will be the same colour, too," She said, "I'm glad it didn't change."

"I don't know, I've always like blonds..." Ron said, apparently not aware of the awkwardness of that statement.

"Ron!" Harry said, lightly punching his best mate in the arm.

Ron ignored him, "Gorgeous, Hermione, really!"

Hermione blushed and looked down, embarrassed again. Harry almost wanted to be upset at him, but he knew he'd done the exact same thing when he saw her.

"Even we have to admit," Fred said.

"You do look great." George finished.

"Thank you, everyone. I'm really bashful at all of this."

"Right," Fred said, "Not to worry, you're still just a kid sister to us."

"Willing to bet every male in the house is going to have this reaction, so get ready for it." George said.

Hermione nodded, taking on a determined face.

George was right, for the most part, though Arthur didn't seem bothered beyond some sort of pride. He thought of Harry as one more son and Hermione, apparently, as one more daughter. He must appreciate that one more daughter growing in a beautiful woman.

Ginny, too, had matured since last year and Harry took care to mention it. She was certainly a pretty girl, just because Hermione was in the room didn't mean that should be forgotten. Ginny seemed to appreciate it. She seemed quite a bit more over that crush of hers than in years past too, and Harry appreciated that. She was more a sister to him anyway.

Like Hermione, he made himself think.

Ginny pulled Hermione away pretty fast for girl-talk, leaving Harry able to spend a bit of quality time with Ron. He'd missed him, especially since Ron couldn't communicate well through letters like Hermione did.

Ron only seemed able to talk about Hermione for the moment, though. Harry had to admit, big change, and he'd had a lot longer to get his head around it than Ron had.

"Do you think – do you think I could ask her out?" Ron asked him, in the sanctity of the Chudley Cannons memorial/Ron's bedroom.

"Oh," Harry was caught off guard by the question, "I... um, if you like her, yeah. Being open about your feelings, that's important. But now might not be the best time for that, you know."

"I don't!" Ron said, "What time could be better than the present? You shouldn't wait on these things, you know, you said it yourself, it's important to be open with your feelings."

"Well, I just mean if you do it now, Hermione might think you're only doing it because of her looks. I mean, she knows you, and all, but it could still come across weirdly. You gotta be tactful about this, stuff, you know?"

"Na," Ron said, waving Harry's words aside, "I'll take her outside after dinner, by the blackberry bushes. That's a great place. Fred said he thought it was romantic and no one gets more tail than he does. Except for George. And Charlie. And Bill."

Ron looked a little bitter suddenly.

"Trust me on this," Harry said seriously, "Just wait for, like, a week man."

Ron was silent a moment, "You're right. I'm being stupid, aren't I? I'll wait."

Harry was relieved. It wasn't the worst situation in the world, a pretty good one, actually, but he still figured Hermione didn't need the stress of wondering if Ron meant it on top of everything else.

That did make Harry think a little, though.

Did Ron mean it?

Well, he though, a little bitter now himself, it wasn't his place to decide that. It didn't have anything to do with him.

He didn't like Hermione or anything like that. Not as anything more than friends and her being more beautiful now than ever wasn't going to change that.

They met Cedric Diggory going to the games via port-key. He was nice enough. Harry had known of him before, but never known him. He didn't pay Hermione undue attention, which was a good sign. Her affect wasn't too strong, wouldn't get in the way of her daily life too, which reassured both Harry and Hermione.

Men's eyes, and a few women's eyes, did seem to linger on her a little longer than they would have before, but hardly noticeably, just as they would any particularly beautiful girl. No one approached her or anything, which Hermione had been a little worried about.

The tent was amazing. Magic, really! He'd never stop being amazed.

They were impressed by the shows put on by the mascots and both paid special attention to the Veela performance. Harry, mostly because he had no other choice. Like every other straight man there, he was enraptured. He had at least managed to stay in his seat and keep his jaw closed.

"Wonder if I'll be able to do that one day." Hermione said to him.

"I bet. You're damn good at magic." Hermione smiled at him for that. Enchanting, even without the teeth he knew.

The Quidditch was simply amazing, keeping even Hermione who wasn't altogether too interested in sport, on the edge of her seat. Harry found himself wondering along thoughts similar to hers as he witnessed a particular dive. Wonder if I'll ever be able to do that...

Celebrations raged into the night. Then the chaos happened.

"Hold my hand!" He shouted at Hermione as they fled, so he wouldn't become separated from her. Neither had the slightest clue what was going on, but panic was a particularly contagious emotion. After the dangers they'd faced in school, well, they had no reason to believe there wasn't truly something to be panicked over.

Harry fell in their rush, only falling to his knees thanks to Hermione's tight grip, but yanking her back a little with him. They were separated from the group instantly in the flow of people moving like a river. She pulled Harry to his feet, but not before a man kicked him, hard, in his flurry to escape.

Hermione howled, the most frightening sound Harry had heard in a long time, sounding like anger, pain, and fear all at once. Feathers burst from her flesh, wings from her back, her nose was replaced by a small, scaly beak. Her eyes... and her hands. Fireballs hovered at her fingertips.

"Veela!" Someone shouted. Death eater, that's who it was! Harry knew the mask all right, he'd seen pictures in the papers.

Hermione, screeching, threw the balls in each hand at him in rapid succession, and more formed before the man had a chance to recover. He fled instantly, along with everyone else around. They had breathing room in the throng of people

Hermione seemed to wither back into her proper self and clutched her head as if in great pain.

Harry hugged her tightly, not knowing what else to do, his eyes still scanning the horizon for more danger.

"It's – fine," Hermione choked out, "My first transformation. Just wasn't expecting it, is all. You're supposed to do it slowly, the first time, all calm and safe and -"

"Don't worry," Harry said, knowing they couldn't stay here, "Let's go, quickly."

They fled the scene immediately, following in the general direction the rest of the crowd had been going. Tall Weasley figures were easy to spot and they were reunited with the group quickly. Harry found relief that they returned for the two rather than just fleeing in panic with the group.

Ron hugged Hermione too, probably somehow sensing her panic from the transformation and knowing it meant she needed him more than anyone else did.

Harry nodded to Hermione over Ron's shoulder and went around the group to make sure everyone was okay. Arthur seemed to have already covered that just fine and was still looking carefully at every kid in his flock.

"Feather stuck in your hair," Harry heard Ron say to Hermione.

"I guess Veela do moult." She said blankly.

A couple weeks later they were in front of the Hogwarts Express. Again, in such a public arena, no one unusual approached Hermione, though she definitely got more than one double-take. Malfoy, being one of those double-takes, gave Harry a sort of satisfaction he didn't really understand.

She didn't show anyone, but Hermione felt an undue sense of nervousness. She definitely noticed those second glances just as much as Harry did and they made her feel self-conscious. Being beautiful like she was now, well, she certainly didn't mind that. She just wished she didn't have to show up with a new face like she so clearly had.

In the past few weeks, Ron had been acting rather oddly, too. Harry, the rest of the Weasleys, were thankfully clearly safe enough from her allure, but Ron seemed to having trouble getting used to it. That really worried her. He should get used to it over time, but if he didn't... she really hoped this wouldn't end up tearing their friendship apart. If it did... well, it wouldn't, she reassured herself for the umpteenth time.

He didn't speak to her the same way he used to. Was always staring at her, almost wistfully. Sat too close, once or twice she even caught him playing her hair. Ginny noticed, Hermione knew, and even had a talk with her brother about it, which seemed to help.

She wondered if Harry noticed.

"Come on," He said to her, pulling her by the hand. She smiled and nodded, following along to find a compartment for the four of them while Ginny ran off to find her friend, Luna who would make five.

Hermione had gotten a lot closer with Ginny the past few weeks, a rapidly growing relationship. She was anxious, now, to meet this friend of Ginny's. Ginny was sure they'd get along but had warned Hermione extensively about the girls mannerisms and oddities. Hermione was confident she'd get over them quickly enough – if Ginny liked the girl so much, she had to be worth it.

"You seem nervous," Harry whispered in her ear when the others weren't looking.

"You know, I kind of am. Talk later." She whispered back.

Harry nodded and withdrew.

That was another person she'd become closer with recently.

Ginny and Harry together we ever her confidants. More and more recently, she felt she could trust the two with anything – oh, and Ron too, of course. Sort of. But Harry was the person she went to when she needed someone to talk to. They spoke to each other about their problems. Harry's nightmares, Hermione's worry about her parents relationship woes, their shared worries for the new year.

She wondered if Ginny and Harry would ever get together. They might be a good match. Ginny had that crush on Harry, too, though that really seemed to have fallen off now. Maybe not, she shouldn't go seeing roses and veils everywhere she looked, both of them could find someone completely different. Probably not even this year, maybe next year they'd all start dating, or the year after that.

"But the wrack-spurts -" She heard a voice say just outside the compartment.

"You'll be fine," Ginny's voice said, "My friends are really nice, promise."

"...Okay." The girl, who must be Luna, said.

Clearly they weren't aware that the people inside were privy to their little conversation. Hermione was determined to befriend this girl, she needed more girlfriends. Not strictly need...

The door was swept aside with a whoosh as Ginny's bright hair paraded in, a strangely pale, ethereal-looking girl with silvery-blond hair pulled in behind by her wrist.

Luna, for her apparent reluctance to enter, had an expression of utter calm. She looked dreamlike and peaceful, fairy-like, even. Very beautiful indeed. Furthermore... Hermione felt a strange feeling. Not just nervousness, something magical there.

Luna smiled at everyone in the cabin as they introduced themselves, going down the list one by one.

"How do you do?" She said simply, half-curtseying, half-making an awkward kick with her left leg.

The compartment was more crowded then it usually was for just three people, but not altogether too bad, especially for Hermione and Harry, who sat on one side, while Luna, Ginny, and Ron squeezed together on the other. Make for four people, the cabins.

"Ah, you're a Veela, aren't you?" Luna said. It seemed like she was looking at Hermione, but could just as well be looking through her.

"Yes," Hermione said simply, "Did Ginny tell you that?"

Ginny's raised eyebrow at her friend told her that she did not.

Luna shook her head and closed her eyes. It seemed to take her a little longer to do these things than it did other people. Only a half-second, maybe, but it was there.

"No, I can feel it. Can't you?"

Hermione shook her head, confused.

Luna giggled slightly, "I'm Veela too, of course – very new to it all, I'm afraid."

For a moment, the compartment was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

"I can feel it!" Hermione exclaimed, "That's what that feeling is! So that's how people know... You're Veela, huh, and new to it? Me too, just this summer!"

While everyone else gaped in astonishment, Luna nodded serenely, "Summer for me as well. Very late in the summer, really, I'm not finished yet."

"Really?" Hermione asked, "You're beautiful."

Luna's smile would seem small on other people, but on her it was like she was grinning widely. "Ah, thank you, I suppose. I'm not used to that, quite yet. You're certainly still the more beautiful of the two of us."

"Enough with the compliments!" Ginny cried out, "Why didn't you tell me, Luna!"

"We didn't get a chance to talk this summer." Luna pouted, "It was recent enough, anyway, so I figured I'd tell you on the train. Exactly what I'm doing now. Well, now that's done, so how was your summer, Ginny? Everyone, I suppose."

"Luna!" Ginny said, "This is a big deal! It was enough to take in that Hermione was one, now you too?"

"I already told you that I was secretly a jack-rabbit and you didn't seem very impressed then."

"You were kidding then!" Ginny said, pointing an accusatory finger.

Luna seemed honestly confused, "Was I?"

"Yes!" Ginny exclaimed.

"Oh, well, I suppose I was then. Thank you, Ginny."

"You're welcome!" Ginny finished, "I mean, when did you find out about it?"

"I got really sick one night. Fever just kept getting worse and worse. I thought I'd been bitten by one of the vicious volcano spirit spiders, but it wasn't that. Daddy was out of town for a little while, I was on my own. But I had a book, you see, about Veela, that I remembered I used to read when I was younger. When he got back, I had already started to look different and my father confessed about it. His side of the family, I'm about quarter Veela. It seems to be coming in strongly on me, though, it's about a year early."

"Your hair, too," Hermione said.

Luna shook it, the silvery-blond locks flying from side to side, "Actually, that's just a family trait – coincidence."

"Right," Hermione said, not fully believing that.

"Well, Luna, you know we certainly won't treat you any differently about that." Harry said, "It's good to meet you, I'm glad to get to know one of Ginny's close friends. If people at school do give you trouble, you come to us, all right? Any of us."

Luna smiled dreamily, which seemed to be something of a default expression for her.

"Oh, thank you, Harry." She said, seeming honestly very grateful.

Ron, tactful for once, diverted the conversation away before an awkward silence could occur, "So, Luna, you're the one here who isn't Gryffindor. Probably the only person I know who isn't Gryffindor, actually..."

For the rest of the ride, they chatted amicably. Hermione asked about the radish earrings, the butter-beer cork necklace. She was definitely weird. Very weird. But likeable, very likeable, and a companion for Hermione in all things Veela. It felt better than she'd thought it would, not being alone in that anymore. She'd never even knew she'd felt badly about it. The timing couldn't be more perfect.

And then Malfoy pulled open the compartment door and opened his stupid, fat mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

"Well, it's a right little party in here, isn't it Crabbe?" Malfoy said, looking down his nose at them. He'd gotten taller over the summer, he could really do that well now.

Crabbe, as usual, had nothing to say. Malfoy, as usual, probably didn't want him to say anything anyway.

"Ah, piss off, Malfoy," Ron said.

"No need to worry, Weasel, I don't plan on staying around you lot, I think that would turn my stomach. Just had a quick question to ask. Did Daddy pay for your plastic surgeries, Granger, or you whore yourself for them?"

Ginny was pushing down hard on Ron's thigh to keep him from getting up and pummelling the blond brat, but she looked pretty livid herself.

"No? Neither of those?" Malfoy seemed disappointed no one had a comeback for him, so he plodded on, "Oh, I think I get it now. You're worse than mud-blood, aren't you – you're a god-damned half-breed."

Somewhat surprisingly, it wasn't Ron or even Ginny who punched Malfoy so hard a trail of blood from his nose fell back over his uniform as he was knocked to the ground. Harry was the one to loose his temper.

Hermione, suspecting the situation might worsen and Harry might get into terrible trouble on the first day back from school, did the first thing that came to her mind – she let loose a powerful blast of her allure with every ounce of effort she had. Every head in the cabin turned her way, entranced and attracted, aside from Luna and Harry, who stared at the stunned Malfoy still on the floor.

While Hermione stared back at all those staring faces in shock, Luna stepped up quickly for a girl with her lazy-looking mannerisms and pushed Harry aside to kneel down in front of Malfoy.

She took out her wand and pointed it at his nose.

"Episkey." She said, the broken nose snapping itself healed. Hermione drew back her allure at that moment, leaving Malfoy staring at Luna.

"Should be all better now, but you'd better go clean up the blood." Luna said, smiling and nodding, like he was dismissed.

Malfoy stood quickly and scrambled, Crabbe and Goyle on his heels, though Goyle did take one more glance back at Hermione before fleeing.

"I hope you don't get in trouble for that, Harry," Hermione said, "Thank you."

"I hope so too." Luna said, returning to her seat with that strange grace.

Her healing of Malfoy's nose wasn't mentioned. Hermione assumed either she did it to lessen the damage and therefore lessen Harry's chances of getting in trouble, or maybe she was just nice to everyone that way. Or just weird.

"Good on you, mate," Ron said, "I wanted to do that so badly myself, git deserved it. How dare he just stomp in here and talk to Hermione like that?"

"We should change," Luna said, "We'll be arriving soon."

The boys stood out in the hall first while the girls changed, Luna taking special care with her earrings and necklace. Hermione noticed that because, well, she was noticing Luna. She wanted to see if the year-younger girl's body resembled hers. It did to some extent. Luna lacked curves, certainly, but her skin was pale white and unmarked. There was that fairy-like grace again. She hadn't even finished her physical changes yet and she already...

While standing out in the hallway, Hermione noticed a blond head peeking out from a compartment before whipping back in when it noticed it was spotted.

Hermione joked to the other girls while they waited.

"Do you suppose Malfoy has Veela blood too? He's got the hair for it."

"I wouldn't know," Luna said, clearly not seeing the joke of it, "You can't sense that in males."

"I think she was joking, Luna," Ginny said.

"Oh," Luna said, looking a little fallen.

"Hey, would you explain to me what wrack-spurts are again?" Ginny asked suddenly.

She knew what she was doing, Hermione noticed – Luna cheered up again immediately. Wrack-spurts, huh? From the way Luna was talking about the nonsense, they had to be one of her favourite subjects. Great friend that she was, Ginny took it in stride, nodding and seeming to pay perfect attention to a topic Hermione found hopelessly dull and confusing.

It was almost a little sad when the small blond had to leave the group to go sit at Ravenclaw Table. Hermione hadn't known her long, but already considered her a friend. Harry's hand giving her a gentle squeeze reassured her. She pecked him on the cheek quickly by way of thanks. His expression was weird and Hermione was reminded that with her allure, maybe she shouldn't do things like that anymore.

At dinner, Dumbledore announced the Tri-wizard Tournament to the cheers of almost all students. Students delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would arrive.

The name Beauxbatons sent Hermione's heart into her stomach for a small moment. She'd promised Lacy in one of their conversations before school to take this year to think about the school in France. They had a whole class for Veela to learn about their history, culture, powers, and how to deal with prejudice. Apparently, it was a finer establishment than Hogwarts too, Hermione had found through research... not just richer, with higher standards of learning. A better place for Hermione's intellect, a better place to make a better future.

She'd promised Lacy to take this year to think about it. If she was going to depart from her friends someday, she certainly couldn't do it in such little time. She'd told no one about her considerations on it, not even Harry or Ginny. Her parents knew by default, but left the decision up to her entirely.

She had a whole year to think on this, so why was she thinking now? She shook the thoughts from her head and smiled with everyone else.

"It's going to be an exciting year!" Harry said, grinning, "Maybe in a good way this time!"

Hermione clinked her glass with him.

Classes started as normally while they waited for the delegations from the schools to arrive. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits and doing well. The trio hung out with Ginny and Luna after classes to finish homework together and just chat. In only days, Luna was growing more into her Veela inheritance.

Then, what Hermione feared might happen did.

Walking between classes one day, Rodger Davies asked if he could talk with her a minute. Harry squeezed her arm for reassure, but both him and Ron moved onward, leaving her to talk with him. Traitors! Hermione recovered from such thoughts quickly and smiled at Davies, trying to look as friendly as she could.

"Hey, I was wondering if maybe you might want to do something on the first Hogsmeade Weekend. There's this really nice place in town, sort of a book-shop tea house, I think you'd like it."

Hermione felt cold, trying to get a handle on herself. What should she say? God, why hadn't she planned for this? He had this confidence, almost charming confidence. He knew she liked books? Did that matter?

"Oh, Rodger, that's a pretty long way away... and, well, we've never really hung out before, like that..." She didn't want to offend him or make him feel badly about himself.

"Right." Rodger said, scratching the back of his head nervously. "I was thinking we might start hanging out that way. Well, you don't have to decide now and you might make other plans before then. I guess I just wanted to get a foot in the door, so to speak. I'll ask again sometime a little closer to the day. Just keep me in mind, all right?"

Hermione nodded miserably. Well, that had gone over a lot better than it could have. Mostly thanks to Roger rather than thanks to her. God, she hardly even knew him. She didn't want to – go out with him. Right? Did she want to go out with anyone?

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. She didn't know what dating was like, really, and no one ever married the first person they went out with or anything like that. It wasn't some kind of huge commitment. She needed to get a move-on or she'd be late for class.

If only it had ended there.

"Parvati -" Hermione stuttered slightly in disbelief and shock, "I never knew that you were, well, that way."

Parvati blushed a bright crimson, "I... never really knew either. You... sort of helped me realize that, Hermione. Um, well, you might not... be... this way. You don't have to go out with me or anything, even if you are. I guess I just... well, I sort of wanted to say thank you." With those words out, Parvati seemed to calm down considerably. It was like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

"I mean it, Hermione," She went on, smiling, "Thank you for helping me realize this about myself. All these years, I've been forcing myself to fall over boys, be like my friends. I guess you can fall over girls just the same way."

She kept looking at Hermione, who blushed and stuttered again.

"I don't what to say. Um, thank you, Parvati. That's..."

"Are you?" Parvati asked, again looking a little nervous, though a lot less so than before.

"Am I...?" Hermione asked.

"Straight?"

"Oh!" Hermione said. She'd thought her face couldn't get redder. She'd known Parvati for such a long time now, it almost felt wrong to not have known this about her. Then again, Parvati hadn't known herself.

"I... don't know." Hermione said, "I've never thought about it."

Parvati giggled at her, "Well, think about it, would you?"

Hermione could only nod as Parvati started to walk away.

"Parvati!" She called after her, still blushing.

"Yes?" Parvati asked, turning back around.

"I'm glad... that you could realize that about yourself. I'm sorry for being so awkward, I have no problem with it, I swear."

"I know," Parvati said, giggling again, "You aren't the kind of girl who would have a problem with it. I just have to convince my parents to be the same way."

Hermione nodded for a while, until Parvati slipped out of sight.

That was certainly unexpected.

And questions were raised. In the middle of the empty hallway.

Well, she was at least partially straight, she felt sure. That would be, at least... she was straight or bi. There was a spectrum, she knew. She could fall anywhere on that bisexual spectrum, probably a lot closer to the mostly heterosexual side.

But was she... maybe a little?

God, she could think about this later, she was late for class!

"I'm telling you," Ron whispered, "I've got to do it today. Bloody Davies beat me to it!"

"I'm not arguing with you," Harry said, "Do it today, whatever."

"I have to tell you!" Ron said, "Or else I'll loose my nerves. Make me do it, Harry."

"I'm not going to do that!" Harry whispered back. Too loud of a whisper, Snape was glaring at them. Fortunately, Hermione choose that moment to whoosh into the classroom in a flurry.

"Sorry, sir!" Hermione said, "Sorry about being late, sir! Sorry about disrupting class!"

"Five points from Gryffindor, sit down, Ms. Granger. You can join Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley, like you always do." Snape seemed unmotivated to get overly angry at the moment. Lucky timing.

"Where have you been?" Harry asked.

"Parvati isn't straight!" Hermione responded in whisper.

"What?" Ron asked.

"Sorry! God, she might not even want people to know that yet, I'm such a mess. I mean, Parvati confessed to me. In the hallway. Am I straight?"

She seemed to be genuinely asking.

"I don't know!" Harry whispered back, "How am I supposed to know that?"

"I don't know!" Hermione said, flinging her hands up, "And earlier, with Roger, he asked me out. At least, I think that's what it was. I'm a little flustered right now, okay?"

"Can we just do the assignment before Snape comes over and pummels us into the ground?" Ron asked.

Hermione nodded. That, at least, was a path she knew. Schoolwork, a safe zone, where she didn't have to think.

"And Hermione..." Ron said.

She looked over at him. His face was red as a tomato Oh, no.

"Can we... talk... after class. You know... about stuff."

Hermione covered her eyes with her hand, "Not you too, Ron."

Ron seemed offended.

"What do you mean by that, not me too?"

"I -" Hermione started, "I don't mean anything by it. I just-"

"What I am not good enough for you now or something?" Ron whispered furiously.

"No! I mean, yes! I-" Hermione stuttered.

"Not right now, I think, is a good idea for when to have this conversation," Harry jutted in.

"Five points from Gryffindor, focus on your work, Mr. Potter." Snape called lazily from his desk.

Harry scowled. Why him all the time?

"Whatever!" Ron said, "I don't care anyway. Just because you're all... pretty... n'stuff... you're still a know-it-all! And annoying! I've changed my mind! I don't want to go out with you! I never did, I-"

"Ron!" Hermione said, in a shocked whisper.

"I mean -" Ron seemed to want to take it back instantly, but it was too late.

Harry was stuck in the middle, looking back and forth at the display in dismay.

"Are you longing for a detention, Mr. Potter?" Snape drawled, not even looking up from his papers.

"It's not me! I – I mean, no, professor, sorry, professor."

"Five points from Gryffindor." Snape yawned in the middle of it. That was more insulting than a deliberate insult and the Gryffindors in the room were starting to look mighty angry with the three.

At last, Ron and Hermione seemed to remember they were in a classroom and quieted down.

Harry didn't know what else to do. Hermione seemed to be on the verge of tears, working silently and efficiently.

He held her hand under the table, giving it a squeeze, then on impulse, tried to do the same for Ron.

Ron looked very offended at him.

Great. Now he was angry at both of them.

Harry rubbed his temple with his free hand.

Ron, stubborn as always, stormed off the moment class ended, leaving Harry to deal with the mess he made. No, he couldn't think of Hermione's feelings like that. She was far too dear to him. He directed her into the hallway by the arm and gave her a tight hug once he'd directed her into an empty classroom. The tears started flowing then.

"I – I'm sorry, Harry!" Hermione said, sniffling, "It's just – all of it together. Roger and Parvati and making Ron angry and Malfoy on the train..."

"You're still thinking about that?" Harry asked in surprise.

Hermione nodded miserably.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," Harry said, "You should have said something, we could have talked it out, or at least, I could have given that git another punch in the nose."

Hermione smiled at that, so, progress, at least.

"Maybe I'll give Ron a punch in the nose too." He said, sounding half-serious.

Hermione shook her head, "Don't be angry with Ron, Harry. You know him, that's just the way he is. We just need to let him cool off for a while."

Harry bit his lip, "That's not how friends should be, I think."

"Maybe not," Hermione said, "But we are anyway."

Harry couldn't say anything to that. Hermione cleaned her face with her handkerchief and they left.

Ron seemed equal parts ashamed and still upset. He didn't talk to either of them at dinner, sitting with Seamus and co instead. Ginny, meanwhile, unaware that anything had happened, was eating at the Ravenclaw table with Luna, as she did sometimes.

Hermione cleared her throat.

"Well, the other schools are coming tomorrow, so that's something to look forward to."

Harry nodded eagerly, glad for a topic of conversation, "Yeah, I'm pretty excited about that, actually. I'd like to see if I can talk to any of them. It'd be interesting to see what other schools are like."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly. From her tone, something had distracted her and she'd forgotten about the row with Ron completely.

She continued, "Take me with you, please, I'd like to do that too! We can go together."

Harry was pleased at her enthusiasm if it made her happy like that, "Yeah, absolutely. Tomorrow, okay?"

She nodded rapidly. That settled and Hermione seeming to be in much better spirits, they dug in to their meal.

Hermione certainly loved learning new things. Talking to the other schools, especially with Harry by her side to alleviate her nervousness, would be a great thing for her any day, but this time around, she had an ulterior motive too. Get to know Beauxbatons in specific.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione shook her head, laughing at Luna's quick wit, while in the background, Ron scowled unseen.

Today, the delegations arrived. They weren't the only ones excited, everyone was. It was a really refreshing change of pace. Everyone ate heartily that morning, as people do when in good moods.

When they finally did arrive, everyone rushed outside to go see.

A flying carriage, drawn by winged horses – beautiful, too, why, that must be Beauxbatons! What gorgeous horses. The ladies exiting that carriage – why, they were gorgeous too. Hermione blushed. She still hadn't decided about the straight or not thing.

"Look!" Harry said, drawing close behind her to point over her shoulder.

He'd spotted the mast of the Durmstrang ship – now this, Hermione had been excited to see! What incredible magic must be built into that ship, to emerge from a lake. That kind of travel – like a mass apparition or something completely different? The men manning that ship – they looked like they were students. That too, delighted her.

Still, they weren't able to be introduced properly to the students from either school until later that day. Everyone had classes, after all.

"Now is our chance, Harry!" Hermione cried out softly, "And how, how brilliant! Look, her," Hermione pointed, "She's a Veela. Oh, I hope she didn't seem me pointing."

"Well, come on then," Harry said, "Let's go talk to them."

They approached the group confidently, without hesitation, having even rehearsed this a little before. Hermione knew a fair bit of French – much more than Harry had expected her too.

In French, she greeted them. "Good afternoon, ladies! We were wondering if we might speak with you, if you aren't terribly busy. We were hoping to learn more about other schools."

The girls looked at each other a moment, but the Veela girl, who almost seemed to be their leader, ushered them off, "Don't worry, sweets," She said to them in French, "Go on ahead, I can finish later, I'll talk to them."

She turned and held out her hand to shake as the other students, looking grateful, nodded and hurried off.

"Apologies, we have work," She said, in somewhat accented English, "The Madame is giving us extra, so we will keep up. I work fast, so don't worry, I have time."

As Hermione shook her hand, beaming, the beautiful young Beauxbatons Veela let out a peal of laughter, a gorgeous, musical sound.

"Oh, apologies!" She said, "I'm Fleur, Fleur Delacour."

"Hermione Granger," Hermione said, "And this is Harry, Harry Potter. Your English is very good, by the way."

"And your French," Fleur said, returning the compliment, "I figured English would be better. Your companion, he doesn't speak French, no?"

Harry smiled good-naturedly "Afraid not, so thank you."

Fleur nodded. "And you're Veela, aren't you, Ms. Granger – Hermione?"

"Hermione," She said, delighted to be on first name basis with the girl already. Harry, too, insisted on being called by his first name.

They got on swimmingly. Hermione explained she'd only come into her Veela inheritance over the summer and was still getting used to it. She begged Fleur to tell her about Beauxbatons and Fleur was happy to oblige.

The school sounded even more amazing from the mouth of a student. It was interesting, though. Fleur was certainly not one to hold her tongue about what she thought. Thus far through the school day at Hogwarts, she was not impressed. She paid particular attention to the physical cleanliness of the school, saying it and its students had a distinctive smell, that it was too dark, and that the professors didn't seem at all professional.

Harry and Hermione both felt a little embarrassed. It must have showed on their faces, because Fleur laughed that musical laugh again and waved it aside.

"Not you two, don't you worry! Though, that red-headed boy who sits near you at your table – I saw him at lunch today, eating like such a pig. I'm glad you clearly aren't part of his group."

Ouch.

"Hehe, yeah," Hermione said, scratching the back of her head.

Fleur realized her blunder instantly.

"Oh, no!" She cried, "You aren't friends are you? I'm sure that messy, disgusting pig is a perfectly nice young man."

Harry laughed, "It's all right, he is a pretty messy eater. And we... kind of had a sort of falling out, recently. We're giving him some time to cool off."

Fleur nodded. She seemed to be physically biting her tongue to avoid saying something nasty about Ron.

"Well," Hermione said, "Thank you so much for telling us about Beauxbatons. We'll probably try to get the opinions of a few other students as well. Before you go, though, I was wondering if we could talk a little about Veela...?"

"I could go, if you'd like me too." Harry said, "I know Hermione doesn't mind, but I understand Veela nature is a primarily feminine topic in a few respects."

"I don't mind," Fleur said, apparently answering both questions at once, "What would you like to know?"

"Well, everything, for a start!" Hermione cried out, "But I suppose a little clarification on the allure might be a good starting point. I've used it, a little – only once, when I was pretty shocked. It seemed really effective."

Fleur nodded, "It is and it'll only get better as you get older. People underestimate the power of the Veela. It's not our other form that most defines our power – it's the allure. The raw power can distract men and women alike if you amp it up enough. It's debilitating to most humans."

"That's another thing – Harry here doesn't seem to be affected – but only by my allure."

"Oh?" Fleur asked, looking curious. "Show me."

Hermione blushed a bit, as they were in public, but supposed it must a nature thing to most normal Veela. She pushed her allure to be more and strangely, was able to far better feel Fleur's presence. She could even detect Luna, though she was far away in the castle. Another power of the Veela?

She turned it back down again. Some boys in the courtyard were staring, but moved on after she stopped.

"Do you mind, Harry, if I attempt my allure?" Fleur asked, "It's a little bit more powerful than you might be used to."

The wave of it hit Harry like a sudden gale, actually staggering him backwards. Fleur – she was beautiful, but so – how had he never noticed before, so gorgeous, so -!

He was himself again the moment she drew it back.

"I see you weren't wrong, Hermione. How strange, I'm afraid I don't know the cause. I can write to my grandmother, if you like. She's full Veela, she might know much better."

"Oh," Hermione said, "You don't have to do that..."

"It's no bother," Fleur said, shrugging her shoulders, "By the way... are you aware of the other Veela within this school?"

"Luna," Hermione said, nodding, "She's a friend of mine actually."

Fleur seemed amused by something or another.

"How unusual – to find one Veela in Hogwarts, but to find two?"

"Takes some getting used to, doesn't it?" Harry said dryly, making both girls laugh.

Fleur had to leave then – even she needed time to do her school work, but she made the two promise to introduce her to 'the other English Veela' sometime soon.

"I'm happy we did that." Hermione said. She really looked it too, which made Harry smile warmly.

"Speaking of Ron..." He started.

Hermione nodded tiredly, "You're right, it's about time we talked to him."

Cornering Ron, surprisingly, wasn't very easy. He could be slippery when he wanted to be, but they managed it eventually where he couldn't bring himself to run off – dinner.

"Hey, Ron," Hermione said, sounding deliberately casual.

"Hey, Hermione," Ron said, sounding miserable.

"We're not really mad at you anymore," Harry said.

"I'm not mad at you either," Ron said, puffing out his cheeks in a sort of defeat. "I'm... sorry about that, Hermione."

"It's okay." Hermione said, "Let's just go back to normal, then."

Ron nodded and the three finished the meal quietly. It was a pretty easy thing to do, because Dumbledore announced that night how the three champions would be decided.

"Wish I could put my name in," Ron muttered, low.

"Na," Harry said effectively giving his thoughts on the matter.

"Do you think Fleur will enter?" Hermione asked as they walked back to their dorms, "She's old enough, I'm sure."

"Fleur?" Ron asked.

"Beauxbatons girl we met today. You were a bit busy sulking." Harry explained.

"She was very nice, a Veela, too. She wants to meet Luna. We haven't arranged anything yet."

"I think I know which one she is," Ron said, "Tall, pretty broad with the silvery-blond hair, right?"

"Well, that could actually describe a couple girls from Beauxbatons, but Fleur is one of them," Harry said.

Ron nodded. "She's really pretty," He said, speaking lightly to the air.

Maybe he'd ask her out instead. Hermione wasn't exactly heartbroken about the truth to his interest, but it did hurt a little. Clearly, he only wanted to ask because he found her beautiful. Well, she had to admit, she was beautiful.

"Huh, take me with you to that meeting, would you? I'd like to meet Fleur too." Ron said.

"Sure," Hermione said, eager to smooth things over with him further.

Over the next few days, quite a few people were seen entering, Cedric Diggory among them.

"Him and Angela are the favourites for Hogwarts champion." Harry said to Hermione.

"I'm glad us younger students can't enter." Hermione said, "I'd be scared for Ron."

"Ah, he wouldn't get chosen, no way," Harry said. "None of us would. Diggory's a world above us."

"I guess you're right." Hermione said, shrugging.

A few days later, Hermione was out reading under a tree near the lake to calm her mind. A shadow fell over her, then disappeared to the side. A boy sat next to her – probably a man, from his stature. Oh, god, she recognized him, actually. Viktor Krum, the guy Ron was crazy about, the Bulgarian Quidditch star.

"Sorry," He said in accented English.

"Um, no worries." Hermione said, "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Viktor." He said shaking her hand. She noticed he didn't give his last name – maybe he didn't want her to know who he was.

"I noticed you reading out here, always." He continued. His English wasn't so good as Fleur's, but still understandable.

"Yes, I like to read." Hermione said.

Viktor smiled. He was very good-looking, especially smiling, Hermione noticed.

"I like flying," He said. She wondered if he was practising his English on her. She certainly didn't mind. The only way to get good at a language was to speak it.

"What do you like about flying?" She found herself asking.

"The air, rushing through me. The speed, excitement. Not only that, though. I like the feeling, to see the world. Not always going fast, going slow sometimes. Taking it in. Beauty. Clear air." He said.

Hermione found herself entranced.

They talked like that, every now and again, when Viktor found Hermione alone. His English was a little bad, but he was still interesting enough. He liked watching her read. It was a little odd at first, but she got used to it.

Ron was livid when he found out.

"Viktor Krum?" He shouted, "You've just been getting pally with Viktor Krum and you didn't want to tell me?"

"Not like that, it just didn't come up in conversation. We've only talked a few times, it's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal. Only my freaking hero, and he's not a big deal. Of course. You being a star yourself now, Krum, he's just small fry isn't he?"

Hermione glared daggers at him, "Ron, you're being a jerk again."

"Oh, sorry," He said, "Didn't mean to offend her royal highness."

"Just shut up!" She shouted, even louder than she'd meant to.

Ron seemed shocked. He scowled at her, then bolted.

Luna, who had been sitting next to her in silence, leaning a little on Hermione and resting her head on the older girl's shoulder, gave a little shrug of her own shoulders.

"Ron struggles with friends, doesn't he?" She said dreamily.

Hermione turned and touched the top of Luna's head with her chin.

"Yes, he does." She said, "He can be a real ass-hole sometimes."

Luna giggled lightly at her language, making Hermione smile. She'd lost her patience with Ron lately. His words didn't hurt her like they used to, maybe they weren't close enough to anymore.

"Wrack-spurts." Luna said confidently.

"Wrack-spurts." Hermione said.

Harry took her side again, even though he heard the story from Ron first and yet again Ron was cut out of their circle so he could cool his head.

Fleur and Krum both ended up being introduced to the group and when they weren't busy, would hang out a little. Hermione found herself and Luna becoming closer to Fleur, rapidly. The older girl was a wealth of knowledge about themselves and their people.

That almost felt strange. Hermione had a people now.

Krum joining them, while wonderful for its own merits, seemed to serve to make Ron more furious. Hermione suspected it would be quite a while before they could talk civilly again, but strangely, didn't find herself missing his company. They used to be a trio, but now, there was Harry, Ginny, Luna, and often enough, Fleur and Krum. Parvati, even, dropped by on occasion with her sister or Lavender. Hermione felt strangely responsible for the fellow Gryffindors' well-being and liked hearing updates about how things were going with her parents.

They weren't happy with it, not fully. Not so much because of, well, the thing itself, but because of marriage prospects. They'd hoped to set Parvati up in a political marriage, now she was refusing.

Krum in particular was very angry about that.

"It's stupid." He said, "Love who you love, my brother, my little brother, he's gay. Wonderful brother. Has a boyfriend. Nice boy."

"They get along?" Parvati asked.

"They get along very well, he's a nice boy. He hurts my brother, I pummel him into the ground."

Everyone laughed a little. Krum's sentiments came across a little oddly sometimes, but his English was steadily getting better.

Both he and Fleur had entered their names into the Tournament.

"I wish they wouldn't have," Hermione confessed to Harry one night when they had a moment to be alone.

"They'll be fine, Hermione," Harry said, comforting her in an embrace, "They're a lot older than us, a lot wiser. Both of them, tough as nails, too."

"Yeah," Hermione said, "Fleur especially, huh?"

Harry nodded. She felt it rather than saw it, just over the top part of her head.

"Thank you, Harry. For everything, I mean." Hermione said, "You're always here for me, to listen to my silly concerns, babbling."

"I love you, Hermione," Harry said, "I like being with you, so of course -"

Realizing what he had said, Harry back-pedalled a bit.

"I – I mean, friendship love. In a friendship way."

Hermione giggled at him, "You know, it's all right, Harry. Honestly... I've got another sort of confession. Only sort of, because maybe it's nothing at all. I don't really know how I feel about you, Harry. I – I've been thinking, all the time..."

They were still in each other's arms, silent for a while.

"I don't know anything, really. And Harry," She tightened her grip on him, banishing tears, "I don't want to act on them, try anything. Not right now. Um, next year. Let's wait to figure this out until next year."

"Next year?" Harry asked.

"Promise me," She said, "You, me, we both go out with other people in the meantime. You never end up with the first person you date, it's like a rule or something. And I don't know how I feel yet, anyway. Just, you signing those letters 'love Harry', I guess it made think about things."

Harry laughed out loud, "You started that!"

"I know!" Hermione said, blushing, "But you, you continued it!"

They laughed together a while and both left for bed with a weight off their chests.

Harry, though, wondered. Next year? Something about that, they way she'd said it, her tone. It was really a specific sort of tone.

He ignored it, in the end, because it didn't matter. Hermione was right, too – you never end up with the first person you go out with – it's like a rule.

If he really liked Hermione, then she shouldn't be his first. Both of them would date something this year – that was like a promise. And now that things were, in a way, settled, Harry felt much better. It was almost a sort of magical feeling.

The night when the goblet was set to pick the champions, everyone was slightly on edge. Hermione didn't know if she wanted Fleur and Krum to have good luck or bad luck – she didn't know which was which either.

Just her luck, then. Fleur, Viktor, Diggory. They'd both be competing. That was good, right? They wanted to. They were strong, too, like Harry said, tough as nails.

There was a sense of relief in the air, at least it was over. The dead silence broke a little and Dumbledore looked like he was ready to give his closing. Then something unexpected happened. One more little piece of paper with its edges burnt. Hermione felt like she might puke. She knew what that must say, Harry could never avoid danger, could he?

The whole room gasped when the paper shot out, Dumbledore's swift hands catching it.

He couldn't seem to believe his eyes.

He said the name once, but not one could hear him. He was saying it to himself in disbelief, Hermione realized. Then he said it louder.

"Granger! Hermione Granger!"

The room exploded around her.

People were outraged, people were confused, Harry looked defensive of her, Ron looked more furious than he'd ever looked.

"Silence!" Dumbledore shouted, getting the effect he wanted immediately. Hermione sat stock still.

"Ms. Granger, proceed to join the other champions."

"But – it's not possible!" She called out, every eye on her, "I didn't enter."

"Ms. Granger." Dumbledore said again.

"No, but – I didn't enter. I don't want to do this, I'll die, I'll die on the first task! I didn't enter, I would never enter."

The Hufflepuffs, they looked furious.

"Nevertheless, Ms. Granger, go join the other champions."

"But – but -!"

"Go!" He shouted, his voice again reverberated through the hall.

Harry's fingers were clamped so tightly around her arm she had to pry them away to stand.

She hurried down to the front, trying to ignore the stares of every single person in the hall. Her face was paler than porcelain and her fingers felt like ice.

"I – I didn't enter," She said one more time, quietly, yet in the silence of the hall, everyone must have heard it.

Dumbledore fixed her with a cold stare. She stumbled, then scurried to join the champions. At the door, she looked back one more time to the room's hundreds of eyes.

Harry's she couldn't find – they were hidden in his hands.

She pushed through the door, a tear she couldn't hide running down her cheek.

"Bewitched!" She heard Moody cry furiously just before she closed the door, "Fourth year student, couldn't have done it herself-"

"Quiet, Alistor!" Dumbledore shouted as chaos erupted again. With the door closed, she was in silence again. The three pairs of eyes staring at her bore more deeply into her soul than all the ones outside together could.


End file.
